I Broke Her
by Cassicio
Summary: A sequel to 'One More Statistic'


**My angst level, I think, has shot through the roof with this fic... That is all I can really say.**

**A long asked for sequel to my fic 'One More Statistic' has finally been written. It continues the story. Reading OMS would be a good idea before reading this one.**

WARNING: NO HAPPY ENDING! If you're looking for one, search elsewhere. Trigger possibilities, and angst. That is what this fic contains and _only_ what this fic contains.

**That being said.  
A/N1: I don't own Glee.  
A/N2: I have no beta.**

**Alright...**

* * *

"Ms. Pillsbury, is something wrong?" Will Shuester asked, frowning in worry at the guidance councillor's tear streaked face and red eyes.

"Will, I need to tell the group something. Rachel's dads said that they should know."

A certain blonde's attention was caught by the mention of the short brunette.

"Where is she, anyways? It's not like Ms. Perfect Attendance to miss school, and especially not Glee. She'd be too afraid to lose a precious solo." Mercedes asked, oblivious to the fact that Rachel hadn't sang a solo in over a month.

Fresh tears welled in Emma's eyes. "I think you all might want to take a seat for this." Slowly, the group returned to their seats, curious as to what had the wide-eyed teacher so upset. "I- I don't know how to tell you all this. Rachel was admitted to the hospital last night, after attempting suicide."

Shocked gasps filled the room.

"No way," Finn scoffed. "Rachel wouldn't do that, she's too focused on Broadway."

"She shot herself with a gun she had discovered in her father's room." Emma continued, as if she hadn't heard what Finn had said. "She missed her heart... Just barely. The doctors suspect her hands trembled too much to keep a steady mark. She's in a coma due to blood loss and hitting her head when she fell. They don't know whether she'll survive."

A sob echoed through the room. Puck placed an arm around his two month pregnant girlfriend, only to have the arm shoved off as she stood and ran from the room.

Quinn sprinted to the bathroom, barely making it in time to vomit the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Tears streamed down her face as she continued to heave until nothing was left. She registered someone holding her hair back, and another on her shoulder.

"I can drive you to the hospital."

"I don't deserve to see her." Quinn replied hoarsely. Pushing herself to her feet, she flushed the toilet and turned to wash her mouth out in the sink.

"Q, I get that we were all horrible to her-"

"No, Santana, you don't understand. I _broke _her."

The Latina stared at her friend. "What do you mean? This isn't your fault, you weren't the one that pulled the trigger."

"I might as well have!" Quinn sobbed out. "I left her." She whispered, "I left her, cause I was scared; I made a mistake and I blamed her. _I _was the one who cheated, but she got slushied. I saw that she was cutting, and I ignored it. I've been pretending to love Puck, and she tried to _kill herself_ _with a gun_!" the last sentence ended in hysterics and Quinn began to hyperventilate. Santana didn't move to help the girl, she was frozen, taking in what Quinn had just confessed. Quinn collapsed to her knees, shaking the dark haired girl from her thoughts. Kneeling down beside her, Santana wrapped her arms around the blonde.

"Q, you have to breathe with me. Come on. Follow my breathing pattern." Slowly, the Latina coaxed her friend out of her panic attack. "You and Berry?" She asked quietly, earning a nod from the, now almost catatonic, girl. "How long?"

"July." Quinn whispered. "When you went away to Puerto Rico for vacation and B had dance camp."

Santana whistled. "Wow, long time."

"Yeah."

"Why'd you sleep with Puckerman?"

Quinn winced. "I was feeling fat that day and he got me drunk." Santana raised an eyebrow in disbelief. The blonde sighed. "And my dad was ranting about Rachel's dads being abominations for being gay. I felt dirty, terrified of how he would act if he found out about me and Rachel. I thought maybe I could prove I wasn't g-gay."

"Well, certainly no one would guess it now; what, with the baby bump and all." That drew a watery chuckle from Quinn, followed by another sob. "Hey, come on. Berry's still alive, Q. Maybe you don't deserve to see her, but I think she might need you. Even if you broke her heart."

"How can you say that? She probably hates me."

"I don't think she'd 've tried this if she hated you, Q." Santana pulled the girl to her feet, leading her out of the bathroom and back to the choir room to get their stuff.

Entering the room, they took in the tears streaking almost everyone's faces. Quinn felt her blood boil.

"None of you has a right to cry." She said, suddenly. "Not one of you noticed that she was suffering. That she was cutting. That her clothing changed." She turned to look at Mercedes. "That she stopped singing." The diva looked away from the angry glare.

"Yeah, well if _you_ noticed all this, why the hell didn't you say something?" Kurt snapped.

Quinn's shoulders slumped. "I should've. I should've said something, but I didn't. And now the girl I love is lying in a hospital, battling death."

Gasps filled the room once more.

"What?! Babe-"

"Don't call me that!" Quinn yelled.

"Why not? You're my girlfriend!" Puck shouted, standing up.

"Because I was in denial after cheating on her with you and getting pregnant!"

The room became deathly silent.

"I- I have to go see her." Quinn whispered. Santana placed a hand on her back, leading her from the room.

* * *

Quinn crashed into the hospital ungracefully, crossing quickly towards the help desk. "I'm here for Rachel Berry."

The gray-haired nurse gave her a cursory look-over, eyes lingering on Quinn's stomach and tear-stained face. "Relation?"

"I-"

"She's her girlfriend, and I'm her sister." Santana snapped, having caught up to the blonde.

"I see." The nurse clicked through documents on the computer. "She's on the fourth floor, room 402."

"Thank you." Quinn whispered, turning and sprinting towards the elevator, Santana on her heels.

Reaching the correct floor and room, Quinn stumbled to a halt, spotting the two men that she recognized as Rachel's fathers, sitting outside. "Mr. and Mr. Berry?" She questioned, cautiously, approaching them. Both men turned to look at her, exhaustion showing in the dark circles under their eyes.

"Quinn, why are you here?" LeRoy asked, tiredly.

"I just heard about Rachel. I needed- I- how is she?"

"She's in surgery." Hiram gritted out. "She had a seizure and started flatlining."

A sob escaped the blonde, Santana catching her around the waist as she collapsed, lowering both of them to the floor. "Shh, cariño," the Latina whispered into her friend's ear. "Shh, Q."

"LeRoy and Hiram Berry?" A doctor in surgery scrubs approached the group. The men stood, stepping towards the woman. She eyed the two girls on the floor. "Perhaps we should talk further down the hall?"

LeRoy shook his head. "Just tell us how Rachel is."

"I-" The woman sighed, rubbing a hand across her forehead with a frown. "It appears that a fragment of the bullet lodged in Rachel's chest was missed in the initial surgery when she was brought in. That fragment had entered her heart. That, along with the damage caused to her lungs and blood loss, are what led to the seizer. She coded again as the doctors were operating to remove the fragment." She paused. "They were unable to restore a heartbeat. I'm so sorry."

"No!" Hiram and Quinn screamed at the same time.

Santana felt the girl in her lap stiffen, pale arms wrapping around her stomach. A shriek of pain tore from the blonde's lips as she felt her stomach contract. Falling forward, Quinn curled into a ball, clutching herself.

"Shit, Q!" Santana turned to the doctor. "Help!" The woman rushed over.

"Sweetie, my name is Doctor Raymond. I need you to tell me where the pain is."

"My- my stomach. It hurts." She let lose a moan, feeling something trickle down her leg. Shifting, she watched red liquid pool on the floor under her.

"Fuck," the doctor hissed, grabbing her pager.

"The baby." Quinn whispered. A scream left her throat, as another contraction hit, and she collapsed onto her back.

* * *

**Go ahead and hate me. But remember, I did warn you.**

**I may, at some point, write another sequel or a side fic, but I make no promises. I have been trying to write a side-fic in Quinn's POV for OMS, but... I get stuck at the Quick part... My bad. So just... I hope this tides over any dark-fic angst requests for a while.**

**Please review, I really would like to know your thoughts on this.**


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